Foam
by KamikazeCreamPuff
Summary: AU. David is a barista who finds himself oddly challenged by a particularly stoic customer.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I had this idea for an AU where Hatter worked in a coffee shop (I know, crazy, right! You know it's an AU when Hatter prefers coffee over tea), and somehow that devolved into Hatter being an awkward barista named David, whom I kind of adore.

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David encountered grouchy people every single day. It was a job hazard of working in a coffee shop, and over the last eight months he had become desensitized to their grumblings, their loud phone conversations, and the way none of them laughed at his jokes. So it didn't make sense to him why his brain would single out only one of them above the rest.

She would come in every day around 9:30, with her black hair pulled up into a high ponytail and her hands shoved into the pockets of her black jacket, ordering a nonfat latte. She had bright blue eyes and a heart-shaped face, and she never smiled.

One day, when David was in a particularly boisterous mood, he set her drink on the counter and said, "Hey, cheer up, gorgeous! It's a beautiful day."

She gave him a very odd look over the rim of her coffee, made a beeline for the door and hustled away. David watched her go, shaking his head.

* * *

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It wasn't nearly as fun a game to play with any of his other customers. But every day at 9:27, when he would make her nonfat latte, he would draw a picture in the foam.

The first day he drew a leaf. Pretty simple, not that complicated. He set it on the pickup counter, with the lid sitting next to it, watching the girl reach for it out of the corner of his eye. She grabbed the cup in one hand and the lid in the other, and David smirked to himself when he saw her do a double-take into the cup.

Her mouth didn't even twitch. She just shrugged, secured the cap onto her cup and bustled out the door.

_Okay, Miss Stoic,_ David thought. _I accept your challenge._

_

* * *

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_

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Over the next month, David drew every foam shape he knew, and even some that he didn't. Dogs, stars, clowns, elephants, trees, suns, even a heart one day when he was feeling particularly bold and her steel blue eyes looked especially bright against the gray backdrop of an October day. Still, no matter what he drew, he was never able to get more than a little smirk, and he was determined to see that face under the influence of a full-blown grin.

"Come on," he managed to say to her on Halloween morning. He had drawn a pumpkin for her that day. "Lighten up!" he said, popping the 'p' and giving her his most charming smile.

All he got in return was a pair of raised eyebrows. "Are you the one who keeps drawing in my latte?" she asked dryly.

David nodded, trying to ignore the slight nerves bubbling in his stomach. "Soul of an artist, this one," he joked, patting his chest and looking dramatically into the middle distance.

"Hmm," she said, capping her drink and walking away. David sighed and leaned against the counter, shaking his head and staring after her.

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The question of whether or not he should continue this little game, after that lovely reaction, stayed on his mind for longer than he would have liked to admit. The next day he just made an ordinary latte, capped it, and set it on the pickup counter.

He turned away to start his next drink when he heard a clear, strong voice say, "What, no drawing today?"

David's chest lightened in an unexpected wave of relief and he grinned, turning around with a comeback already on his tongue –

Only to see the black wave of her ponytail as it disappeared out the door.

_Oh well,_ David thought, still grinning. _I'll tell her tomorrow._

_

* * *

._.

The next day, David's hair would not cooperate, so he shoved it under one of his favorite hats - a gray fedora. The customers seemed to really like it, so he was feeling especially confident when she walked in at 9:30 that day.

"We're out of foam," he said, the instant she stepped into the shop.

She looked at him, the picture of surprise and confusion. "What?"

_Oh shit,_ David thought, eyes widening as he realized she had no idea what he was talking about. "No! I mean, yeah, of course we have foam _today_. That was my comeback for you... yesterday..." he could feel the heat rise in his face and his confidence drain out onto the floor. "I mean, you asked why I didn't draw you a picture, and..." _(Oh dear lord.) _"...I mean, today we have foam, of course, yeah... It's impossible for a coffee shop to be... out of foam..."

David was pretty sure you could have boiled water on his face by this point. He yanked at the brim of his fedora awkwardly, shrinking down a little bit to hide behind the coffee grounds and pretending to busy himself with the espresso machine. But just when he was wishing the floor would swallow him up, right along with his too-late comeback, he heard something entirely new to him.

He looked up, and she was laughing.

It was a high-pitched, full-bodied laugh, and she brought one hand up to cover her mouth so that the sound bubbled out from the sides. _Dimples,_ David thought. _She has dimples._

"You have a nice smile." The words left his mouth before he even realized he had opened it.

She looked at him oddly, her eyes still sparkling slightly and her expression more open than he had ever seen it. "You have a nice hat," she said.

As she walked away with her coffee, David thought it was quite possible that she had walked away with his heart, as well.

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Her name was Alice, he found out the next day. He told her his name was David, but she always called him Hats (which was something he secretly liked). David had thus started to wear his hats every day to work - he decided that he liked that particular addition to his wardrobe, because not only did the customers like it, but it meant he didn't have to control his wild cowlicks every morning. Sometimes he put odd things into the ribbon around the brim, like a picture, or a feather, or a leaf he found walking to work that morning.

He made her smile every day - until the day he went to work, and the coffee shop was no longer there.

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	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I actually wrote this chapter in a coffee shop. Dedicated? Oh yeah. XP

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'Gang initiation', the police said. Two or three homemade explosives made with materials bought at the Kum-N-Go two blocks away, probably thrown through the window, burning the place down within an hour. A regrettable incident, they said. Unavoidable.

Common.

Just before 7:00 that morning, David stood on the corner with his hands jammed deep into his pockets, staring at the blackened, twisted exterior. He had just been there yesterday, flipped switches on the espresso machine, counted the till, stuck a brown feather in his fedora to celebrate the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday.

He had drawn Alice a cat - one with stripes and a big smile on its face. She mentioned in passing that it looked a little like the cat she'd had when she was younger, and David had felt warm all day.

He felt something in him shift, turn, slide somewhere, and he checked his watch.

Abruptly, David turned on his heel and walked away, hat bowed against the misty morning.

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He showed up again at 9:25. In his hands he cupped a nonfat latte from the coffee place three blocks west. He'd tucked the receipt in his hat.

Maybe Alice had seen it on the news, he told himself. Or maybe she saw the wreckage as she drove by and just kept on driving, or maybe today was the one day in nearly ten months that she didn't feel like a nonfat latte with a stupid picture drawn in the foam by some random hipster wearing a gray fedora who just loved to make her smile.

David sat on the corner until the latte stopped steaming, and eventually turned cold. Then he threw it away and walked home.

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Griff, his boss, made quick use of the "my shop just blew up" sympathy card. He managed to find David an immediate job in another coffee place across town while repairs were being done. The shop would probably be open again March 1st, he'd said, and then he guaranteed David's old job back… if he still wanted it.

David thanked him and hung up.

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The best thing David could say about this new place was that they still let him wear his hat.

His co-workers were nice enough, even though there were more people behind the counter now than he was used to. The customers were a little less grouchy on this side of town, and they texted instead of talked on their phones, and they laughed politely at his jokes even if they didn't really understand them. David stayed behind his espresso machine and made drinks and put Christmas-y things in his fedora.

But he didn't draw in foam anymore.

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Three weeks slipped by slowly, monotonously, until already it was time to sign up for Christmas shifts. David put his name down for the entire week – he definitely wasn't going home, and it would be nice to have the vacation pay. It made his co-workers happy because that meant they could take the time off. It made his new boss happy because he could keep the place open for the holiday.

_Everybody wins_, David thought sourly the morning of the 24th, rigging jingle bells to his fedora with the clever use of paper clips. He went to work, waved to Jessica at the register, and set up station for the day.

He worked solidly for the first two and a half hours of his shift, repeating orders in his head in a familiar rhythm. A two-pump peppermint mocha, a soy chai, a caramel cappuccino, a gingerbread latte, a nonfat latte—

"Funny thing," a clear voice said directly in front of him. "I've tried every latte in town, and do you know how _hard_ it is to find a half-decent foam artist in San Fransisco? I've gotten spoiled."

David's head snapped up so fast he almost got whiplash, and he could hear the sharp jingle of the bells on his hat. The steamed milk he'd been making dripped all over his shoes, but he barely even noticed, because Alice was standing right in front of him with a smirk as familiar as the back of his hand, like the last month had never even happened, like…

"Alice!" he said, with a grin and an odd buzzing in his ears. "Hey! ...Wow, um… Fancy seeing you here! …How are you?" He didn't know whether he should go around the counter and wrap her up in a huge hug like he wanted to, or just stay where he was and do nothing, or reach across the counter to… what, shake her hand? His arms jerked awkwardly for a moment before he settled for simply picking up a rag and mopping up the milk he'd spilled all over the counter.

Alice laughed. "Hey, Hats," she said, reaching across to tug on the brim of his hat, jingling the bells. "I see you've got a little bit of holiday spirit today. How've you been?"

"Oh, fine," he said, swallowing. "You didn't show up… that morning. For your latte, I mean, at 9:30." This was not at all what he'd thought he'd be saying when he opened his mouth. He looked down at the milk cartons to his left, feeling the heat rise in his face.

"Oh," she said, sounding surprised. "I saw the wreckage when I drove by and I thought... Wow, I mean, I figured it would be closed—"

"It was," he said. And his eyes flicked to hers briefly before settling back down on the milk cartons, his right foot tapping inside his shoe nervously.

"Oh," he heard her say softly.

An awkward silence fell. David coughed.

"Well," Alice said again loudly, bringing his eyes back to meet hers. "It seems I owe you a drink then, Hats." She smirked again, and David felt his embarrassed nerves change to something else entirely.

"It seems you do," he said, thinking that Christmas with Alice sounded like the greatest thing in the world. "Look, I know it's the holidays and everything—"

"What time do you get off work tonight?" she asked abruptly.

"Nine o-clock," he said.

She raised her eyebrows. "Long hours," she remarked. David shrugged.

"Christmas season," he said.

"I'll be here. We could… we could do pizza?"

"Yeah," he said, leaning forward and crossing his arms against the top of the espresso machine. "And lots of other things."

"Good. Great."

"Yeah. Great."

They stared at each other across the espresso machine with silly grins until Jessica started to make loud coughing sounds.

"Right," David said, adjusting his fedora to a jaunty angle and expertly flipping an empty to-go cup in the air. "One nonfat latte, coming right up."

"Excellent."

He drew her a sun.

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End file.
